The Mother



She wears wings on her head,

white wings that dip when she laughs

Her face is wrinkle soft kindness

Listens to your heart, your breath

Floats out and in with sweet curing syrups

Salves for clogged memories,

A striped cloth to absorb tears


She wears a star-sprinkled veil of twilight blue

Her face is sun dusky desert

Eyes downcast, charcoal wells of compassion

Roses bloom and breathe at her bare brown feet

Calls for a shrine, a temple of honor

where the corn goddess dwelt

These ancient stones already sacred


She wears a tall dress of African red,

gray hair in knotted strings,

Speaks truth like a fire alarm

wake up, all you colors

wake up and admit who you are

Reveal your hiding minds

Cleanse your secret, smoldering hearts

Learn the new earth song

Sing it together

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